


nirvana in a'dam

by werebothstubborn



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, phil just really loves dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 05:08:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15332454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebothstubborn/pseuds/werebothstubborn
Summary: after a whirlwind date around amsterdam, phil's more than ready to fall asleep. but the night's not over, and before he can sleep, he really just needs to love dan for a bit.or, the five senses of amsterdam





	nirvana in a'dam

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this like a month ago following dan and phil's excursion through amsterdam, and it sat abandoned for quite some time. but today i found the inspiration to finish it, so i hope you enjoy :)
> 
> thank you to [katie](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/) for helping me whip some of this into shape the first time around.

(If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure that it feels like this Amsterdam hotel room bed. Plush and soft in a way that will probably make his back ache in the morning, but right now it just feels like a cloud he wants to sink himself into until it swallows him whole. The sheets are golden, with a higher thread count than he thought existed, and they feel like satin beneath his tired limbs.)

The urge to slip beneath those sheets and let them drag him into a deep, deep sleep is almost overwhelming, but Phil can feel each shift in the air as Dan shuffles about the room - tossing the takeaway they ordered tonight into the bin, brushing his teeth in the bathroom, struggling to remove his skinny jeans - and he knows he can’t give in to that urge. This night isn’t over yet.

(If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure it smells like espresso and salt and Nivea for Women. Dan’s just climbed into bed beside him, and he doesn’t even need to open his eyes to know it. He knows Dan, and the exact way his weight shifts the mattress beneath them, and the way he smells. Dan is here and trying to lift the covers to slip beneath them and lie at Phil’s side, but Phil throws a hand out to to hold them down and groans lowly.)

“But Phil, I’m _tired_ ,” Dan whines, and Phil shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut. He’s not quite ready for this day to end, but he needs a minute to sink into nothingness.

(If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure it sounds like Australian Bake-Off playing softly from the telly, and water lapping against the walls of a boat, and the wet smacking of lips in a private moment he and Dan had shared as they waited for their takeaway, and the soft puffs of air Dan’s breathing into his ear right now. He wants to bottle each one up and stick them up on a shelf.)

Phil can’t help rolling over now, fitting himself into the space Dan’s left for him between his arm and his chest. He’s warm in a way that makes Phil want to burrow his face further his neck, so he can listen to that quiet breathing until it lulls him to sleep. He doesn’t though, not yet. He forces his eyes open and looks at the beautiful man beside him.

(If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure that it looks like Dan. Like Dan just as he is right now - in nothing but his pants and that _stupid_ oversized, black and white sweater, his collarbones caved in in that absolutely delicious way that makes Phil want to dip his tongue into them and taste soft, salty skin. Like the Dan looking back at him with cocoa eyes crinkling at the corners, and deep dimples carved into his cheeks, and toothpaste still smeared along the corner of his mouth.)

With another groan, Phil swings a leg over Dan’s hips so he’s straddling him and forces himself to sit up and settle back on Dan’s thighs. He smooths his hands out over the sweater engulfing Dan’s frame and tries to ignore how scratchy the material feels against his palms. It’s not like he’ll have to worry about that in a few minutes time.  Instead, he brushes his fingers along the bottom hem, slipping them up underneath to skim over warm, smooth skin.  He feels the way Dan tenses beneath him, his hands immediately reaching out to slide over Phil’s thighs; smells the mint on Dan’s breath as he shifts under Phil’s weight, pushing himself back so he can lean against the headboard, and their faces are suddenly much, much closer than they were before; hears the soft hum Dan makes as he leans in further, further, _further_ , until the tips of their noses brush together and Phil forgets how to breathe; sees the gentle flutter of Dan’s eyelashes as he closes the distance remaining between them and presses his lips to Phil’s. And then he tastes Dan.

(If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure that it tastes like cappuccinos and spearmint and something that’s inexplicably _Dan_. Something that’s bitter at the first taste but grows sweeter the more times you touch your tongue to it, something like tequila that loosens your tongue and numbs all other sensations the more you drink it in. Dan is tequila, and Phil loves to get drunk on him.)

Phil’s entirely sober, but everything about Dan feels warm and electric and heady right now. The smooth, slow glide of his lips on Phil’s, the gentle massage his fingers press into Phil’s bare thighs, the way he doesn’t pull all the way away, lets his mouth still brush over Phil’s when he unlatches their lips to whisper, “Maybe I’m not that tired after all.”

All Phil can think as he surges back forward to capture the beautiful - albeit filthy - mouth on his love of eight years is _Dan, Dan, Dan_. And miraculously, Dan seems to be just as hyper-focused on _this_ as Phil is. He’s looking back at Phil with coffee-coloured eyes that he’ll drink in tomorrow morning to try to cure his hangover. Dan’s hands glide upwards, skimming over the soft cotton of Phil’s pants, slipping underneath the loose hem of his t-shirt so his fingers can slide through the fine hairs of Phil’s happy trail.

Phil can’t help the way his stomach swoops and his cock twitches and his eyes squeeze shut at that simple touch. They’re not even close to being ready for Dan to touch him yet, but Phil’s body seems to have some other ideas. He is putty in Dan’s hands at this point and he doesn’t really care about how Dan wants to mold him tonight, so long as he molds him.

When Dan opens his mouth a little wider, Phil follows suit, slipping his tongue between Dan’s teeth to explore a terrain he’s explored so many times before. Somehow, he always manages to find something new, something he’s never noticed before. Today, he discovers an entire mountain range of flavours when he touches the tip of his tongue to Dan’s. There’s coffee and spearmint, and something that tastes suspiciously like bubblegum, and a thousand other flavours that are distinctly _Dan_.

Phil lets his tongue slip further inside, pets it over the roof of Dan’s mouth. He can feel the tiny blister Dan whined about earlier tonight when he’d shoved some curry in his mouth while it was still too hot. Dan hums into his mouth as if the repeated gentle swipes of Phil’s tongue are actually soothing, and Phil feels his whole chest explode with warmth.

He slips his hands fully beneath Dan’s sweater now, raking it up, skimming his hands over his smooth chest, and Dan gets the message, pulling away, pressing one more chaste kiss to Phil’s lips, tugging his sweater over his head and tossing it to the floor beside them.  Phil takes this moment of reprieve to shed his own shirt, and then quite suddenly they’re both in just their pants and Phil can feel a current of electricity coursing through his veins.  

He lets his eyes settle on the wide expanse of Dan’s bare chest and devours every inch of milky skin with his eyes alone, mapping out the freckles scattered beneath his collarbones, circling around the dark nubs of Dan’s nipples, dipping into his belly button. Phil’s seen it all thousands of times before, enough for every inch of Dan’s body to be ingrained in his memory forever, but that doesn’t stop the complete awe for everything Dan from flooding his entire being.

Dan’s hands settle back on Phil’s bare waist, and he seems to be doing the same sort of familiar exploration of Phil’s body, only with his fingertips instead of his eyes.  They roam over each hill and valley of Phil’s ribs, smooth up his arms and over his shoulders, and every inch of Phil’s skin that Dan manages to touch coils with heat.  It’s been so fucking long since the last time they’ve been able to really enjoy each other like this, so even if it’s a bit ridiculous that Phil’s so easily turned on by the simple touch of Dan’s hands, he can’t really help it.

And when Dan finally kisses him again, the whole world, every sense he could possibly experience seems to fade away and flood his body in a rush at the same time. There’s nothing but Dan, but Dan is everything.

(If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure it feels like Dan peeling off his boxers and blowing him until he feels like he might burst. Like a surge of protest bubbling up in his throat when Dan pulls off, silenced only a moment later when Dan starts scissoring him open. Like the rush of blood when Dan pins his wrists to the mattress and fills him up.

It smells like sweat and sex and must and everything that would probably make him wrinkle his nose if he and Dan weren’t the co-conspirators filling up the room with _them_.

It sounds like something caught between soft sighs and heavy panting, and like Dan breathing out his name as he brings them both closer and closer to climax.

It looks like the stars that form behind his eyelids when Dan finds the right angle and takes him to Poundland.

And it just tastes like this. Like salt and sex and _Dan_.

If there’s a heaven, Phil’s pretty sure that it’s just Dan. Everything about Dan. He’s never felt as close to nirvana as he does when Dan’s inside him, all around him, and if that’s the case, well, there _must_ be a heaven.)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :)
> 
>  
> 
> [like and reblog on tumblr](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/post/176002457884/nirvana-in-adam)


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